‘Obviously not willing to let go of it even when he’s eating,’ said the other agent once the waiter was out of earshot.
The waiter returned to the carpark a few minutes after midnight, to report that both men had gone to bed in their own rooms. He handed over a pass-key, and in return was given another fifty-dollar bill. He left feeling he’d done a good night’s work. What he didn’t know was that the man in Room 107 had taken the keys of the handcuffs, so as to be sure that no one would try and steal the briefcase from his partner while he was asleep.
When the guest in 107 woke the following morning, he felt unusually drowsy. He checked his watch, and was surprised to find how late it was. He pulled on his jeans and hurried through the connecting door to wake his partner. He came to a sudden halt, fell on his knees and began to vomit. Lying on the carpet in a pool of blood was a severed hand.
As they stepped off the plane in Cape Town, Stuart was aware of the presence of two men watching their every move. An immigration officer stamped their passports, and they headed towards the baggage claim area. After only a few minutes, luggage began to appear on the carousel. Maggie was surprised to see two of her old suitcases coming down the chute. Stuart was starting to get used to the way Connor Fitzgerald operated.
Once they had retrieved their bags, Stuart put them all on a trolley and they walked towards the green customs exit. The two men filed in close behind them.
As Stuart was wheeling the trolley through customs, an officer stepped into his path, pointed to the red suitcase and asked if the owner would place it on the counter. Stuart helped Maggie lift it, as the two men following them reluctantly moved on. Once they had passed through the sliding doors they stationed themselves a few feet from the exit. Each time the doors opened, they could be seen peering back through. Within moments they were joined by two other men.
Would you open the case, please, ma’am,’ asked the customs officer.
Maggie flicked up the catches and smiled at the mess that greeted her. Only one person could have packed that case. The customs officer dug around among her clothes for a few moments, and eventually came out with a cosmetics bag. He unzipped it and removed a small cellophane packet which contained a white powdery substance.
‘But that isn’t…’ began Maggie. This time it was Stuart who restrained her.
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to conduct a body search, ma’am,’ said the officer. ‘Perhaps, in the circumstances, your daughter would like to join you.’
Stuart wondered how the officer could possibly have known that Tara was Maggie’s daughter, when he apparently didn’t assume that he was her son.
‘Would all three of you care to follow me,’ said the officer. ‘Please bring the case, and the rest of your luggage.’ He lifted a section of the counter and ushered them through a door that led into a small, drab room with a table and two chairs. ‘One of my colleagues will join you in a moment,’ he said. He closed the door, and they heard the key turning in the lock.
‘What’s going on?’ said Maggie. ‘That bag wasn’t …’
‘I expect we’re about to find out,’ said Stuart.
A door on the far side of the room opened, and a tall, athletic-looking man, who didn’t have a hair on his head although he couldn’t have been a day over fifty, bounced into the room. He was dressed in blue jeans and a red sweater, and certainly didn’t give the impression of being a customs officer. He went straight over to Maggie, took her right hand and kissed it.
‘My name is Carl Koeter,’ he said in a broad South African accent. ‘This is a great honour for me, Mrs Fitzgerald. I’ve wanted for many years to meet the woman who was brave enough to marry Connor Fitzgerald. He called me yesterday afternoon and asked me to assure you that he’s very much alive.’
Maggie would have said something, but the flow didn’t stop.
‘Of course I know far more about you than you do about me, but unhappily on this occasion we will not have time to remedy that.’ He smiled at Stuart and Tara, and bowed slightly. ‘Perhaps you would all be kind enough to follow me.’
He turned, and began to push the trolley through the door.
‘”Always we’d have the new friend meet the old“,’ Maggie whispered. Stuart smiled.
The South African led them down a steep ramp and along a dark, empty passageway. Maggie quickly caught up with him, and immediately began to question him about his phone conversation with Connor. At the end of the tunnel they climbed up another ramp, and emerged on the far side of the airport. Koeter guided them quickly through security, where they were met with only the most cursory of checks. After another long trek they arrived in an empty departure lounge, where Koeter handed over three tickets to a gate agent and received three boarding passes for a Qantas flight to Sydney that had been mysteriously held up for fifteen minutes.
‘How can we begin to thank you?’ asked Maggie.
Koeter took her hand and kissed it again. ‘Ma’am,’ he replied, ‘you will find people all over the world who will never be able to fully repay Connor Fitzgerald.’
They both sat watching the television. Neither of them spoke until the twelve-minute clip had come to an end.
‘Could it be possible?’ said the Director quietly.
‘Only if he somehow changed places with him in the Crucifix,’ replied Gutenburg.
Dexter was silent for some time before she said, ‘Jackson would only have done that if he was willing to sacrifice his own life.’
Gutenb
urg nodded.
‘And who’s the man who paid for the rifle?’